


Accord

by red2007



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Episode: s06e03 Triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red2007/pseuds/red2007
Summary: A mostly Scully-sided look at the few moments beyond the final scene of Triangle and a simple, possibly canon-compliant gesture.





	Accord

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. If I had there would have been sex. *shrug* Suck it Chris Carter.

“Oh, brother.” She turned slowly, with hesitation and walked calmly out of the room. Out of the room was as far as she got.

_Where the hell did that come from?_ She thought to herself as she stood in the hallway, just to the left of his door. Their carefully constructed partnership built on a deep mutual trust and respect coupled with a unique ability to communicate and coordinate seamlessly with nothing more than body language was leaping into uncharted territory. Emotional territory, at least, acknowledged emotional territory. They’d been in emotional territory since the first time he’d argued with her, that first day in his office. They’d been steeped in emotions since that first night in Oregon with a heartfelt conversation in his hotel room by candle light. Hours after she’d all but showed up naked in a panic at his door. _Fine_ , she decided to herself. _We’ve been emotional for years, but did he have to say that?_

He’d told her repeatedly how much she meant to him and vice versa. They both had a keen understanding that trust, in their line of work and circumstances in which they repeatedly found themselves, was difficult to come by. She’d trusted him enough to shoot him for his own good. He’d trusted her enough to risk prison to buy him time with a congressional hearing. At any given point, beyond a shadow of a doubt she knew he was always looking out for her. She knew she’s proven just how much she’s willing to put on the line to save him. Her entire reputation. Her legacy. Her honor. She wasn’t sure if her father would have been proud or ashamed of that fact.

_I’d offer again in a heartbeat._ The thought came suddenly and unbidden and she found herself leaning up against the wall to steady herself. The Gunmen had left believing Mulder high on pain killers after all the nonsense he was spouting. With all his crazy talk, it would seem as much, but she knew better. Antibiotics to curb any infections from a few open scratches and water inhalation due to prolonged exposure. And a nice shiner over his left cheekbone that he hadn’t complained about once. They hadn’t given him anything stronger than a couple Advil. A completely lucid and fully functioning Mulder had told her that he loved her.

_And why should that even surprise me?_ She pondered. Of course he loved her, of course she loved him. They both had a deep…affection for the other. _Like siblings_ , she assured herself and then immediately moved her fingers to the bridge of her nose. _Fine, not like siblings,_ she admitted reluctantly. Siblings didn’t almost kiss in hallways. Siblings didn’t sometimes feel a literal snap of electricity and heat when they touched or looked lingeringly at each other. _Siblings don’t LOOK at each other lingeringly,_ she groaned. Siblings also don’t feel relief, panic, and euphoria at the knowledge that the other feels the same about them.

_But I can’t tell him._ _There’s too much at stake._ With Kersh breathing down their necks every second of every day, how they managed to keep this excursion from him thus far was a miracle. If she was being incredibly honest with herself, she was still exceedingly pissed about the thing with Diana. She was pissed at the sheer presence of Diana. In her position. In her office. On the X-Files. In Mulder's life. The woman was a damned menace and dirty as could be. Dana Scully was not one to be possessive but the appearance…or more, reappearance of Diana Fowley had cast quite a green shadow over her partnership with Mulder.

_I still do love him though,_ she chided herself. There was no point in denying it, even if she knew she couldn’t return the sentiment. Fine lines needed to be drawn. If they were ever going to work together, if they were ever going to tow this line with Kersh and eventually get their department back there had to be as few complications as possible. Love, or more, acknowledgement of love, was a complication. One they couldn’t afford. _Right now,_ she added internally. Someday they’d throw caution to the wind, she’d kiss him senseless, profess all the repressed feelings she’s held for years and see if their passion equaled that of her fantasies. She promised herself as much. Someday. For now, however she knew that he’d made himself vulnerable for her. He probably believed that she assumed he was drugged and out of his mind. He’d probably been counting on that as a buffer in case she’d completely blown him off. _Which you did, Dana, admit it._ But maybe somewhere he knew that she had already checked his chart out of habit. They both knew wholeheartedly that he meant every word. They also knew there was an out, in case of emergency. He felt safe enough to be open with her, the least she could do is give him some sort of a sign. Innocuous enough that he’d understand but also realize that it wasn’t the time yet. She couldn’t leave him hanging like this.

She stood and glanced at his door once more before walking briskly to the nearest nurse’s station. She found his nurse and with a sweet smile said, “I need you to do me a favor.”

Mulder was still leaning gingerly on his pillow, the sting from his bruise a constant reminder that it had happened. He lay there with a faint smile and a dreamy expression on his face, replaying the whole thing in his mind. The curve of her head, the pressure of her lips, the brief taste of her tongue…he felt intoxicated while completely sober. In a matter of hours, he’d kissed a Scully and told his that he loved her. Yeah, he was feeling pretty high. Of course, she hadn’t said it back—he hadn’t expected her to. It wasn’t time yet. He’d just seen a rare opportunity and jumped at the chance. He was still in his state of bliss when his nurse came in with a purpose. She set down a large Styrofoam container on his side table while she proceeded to check his vitals. When she’d finished and charted her findings she stuck a straw in the cup she’d brought.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you. But for now, get some rest.” She handed him the cup and with a wink added, “Your partner wanted me to give you this. Good night.”

Mulder took the cup, but he already knew its contents. She couldn’t say it, he understood that but she knew. She knew he was coherent, knew he was telling the truth, knew that it wasn’t time, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved her.

He took a long, jubilant sip from his cup of iced tea and told himself, _it is most definitely love._


End file.
